'wish you were here'

she lit her cigarette like a mia wallace from pulp fiction poster, took a deep drag and blew out a huge trail of smoke from her nose as she looked at several faces arrested in small digital squares on her computer screen (video calls, duh)... and here from the other side of the screen, as i watched her... i felt a bit dazzled... as if i'd inhaled that smoke she just blew out. her presence was indeed intoxicating. please cut me some slack, i had seen her after a long time. 

while her eyes darted from one box to another, smilingly, laughingly, occasionally contributing to the banter of the meeting and very obviously oblivious (try reading these two words aloud at once :P) of my presence, i safely hid behind my display picture which did a great job at not revealing my emotions. not that anyone, including her, was interested in knowing where my eyes lingered. 

she wore black today. black - the color borrowed from the night. the color where my mind takes refuge in. the color which resembles the walls of the room which guards all of my secrets and pain. 

was this not enough that her iridescent eyes were radiating an embracing warmth of blue. blue - the color borrowed from the daylight sky. the color which resembles the roof of my garden when the sun shines brightly. 

there, right there, i felt drawn to her like a rumi to a shams. 

no, i'm no rumi, and she is no shams, but the bond that tied them together, i felt, we could have one like that.

when the meeting was nearing its end, my eyes lingered a bit more on hers, arrow hovered a bit longer on the leave button, unwilling to click it... just to smoke in her image in my mind... a bit longer... like the drags she took from her cigarette.         

Disclaimer: No non-fictional characters were harmed in the making of this post.